By The Sea
by gracefacex
Summary: ...I found my heart. A tale of friendship, discovering yourself, and the beauty in life.
1. Chapter 1

AN:/ Hi! I'm really excited about this fic, I have big plans for it and the concept is one that I really enjoy writing. The beach house featured in this is a real place, I did my research, and if people are interested I'll post a link to it on my profile so you can see the inside and outside for better perspective of what everything looks like. The song Brittany sings is Maggie May by Rod Stewart, but if you listen to it listen to the Paul Mcdonald version! Anyways..enjoy! Feel free to review as well! xxo

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><p>She wears a striped hat; it covers the top of her eyes and makes shadows on her nose. The waves of the water move towards and away from the shore in a way that is heartbreaking to watch as if they can never stay still – safe – in one place. There are sandcastles scattered around her, young children burying shells deep into the grains of sand. Fluttering her eyelids closed and letting them slowly re-open…she feels lonely.<p>

There's a girl by the shore, with long streaky blonde hair. It flies in the wind like dandelion fluff, Santana wonders if she's wishing herself away. It's been a week or so since she's put out the ad for a boarder. The large beach house that hovers high above the water on a hill has felt too large and too empty. Only one or two people have stopped by to look into it. She never feels comfortable around them, watching as they touch the furniture that she carefully selected from vintage stores and catalogs makes her hands and voice shake. Santana never calls them back to let them know like she says she will. But now there's this girl, childish and free, that Santana can't seem to keep her eyes off of.

It happens when Santana is sitting cross-legged on her porch swing, drinking tea and reading some shitty romance novel from the old paperback store.  
>Those same blonde streaks are shining; her blue eyes twinkle as she stands firmly on the stairs leading up to the house. "Hi, I'm here about the ad?" Santana holds her page with a bookmark and smiles over at the girl, waving her over to the screen door. For the first time, she doesn't feel as uncomfortable as the stranger steps into her house.<p>

"The room is upstairs on the left." Santana says, "Its $200 a month, not including groceries."

"Hm." The blonde goes up the dusty wooden staircase, her hand smoothly running along the railing. Santana watches and follows, standing in the doorway as the other girl wanders into the spare bedroom. It's a large room with a picture window overlooking the water, two paisley beige curtains hanging loosely at the sides. The bed is a perfect size and there is a vanity with a beautiful hand-carved frame around the mirror. The girl stares into the mirror then back at Santana."This is beautiful." She says, touching the detail of the mirror, "Who did this?"

"My mother did." Santana replies, "She's quite the artist."

"Wow."

"So, what do you think?" Her stomach turns uneasily as she watches the other girl look at all of the details of the room.

"I love it." Pausing, "I'm Brittany, by the way."

"Santana." She extends her hand to Brittany and they shake each other's hands lightly, "What brings you to South Addison?"

"Just got tired of the same old, same old." Brittany answers, "I really wanted a room with a view."

Santana nods and bites her lip, "Well, you can move in whenever you want. If you're really interested, that is."

"Really?" She nods towards her again, "I've honestly been living in my car and sitting at the beach during the day. What if I just moved in right now? Would that bother you?"

Santana doesn't like the idea of someone ever living in their car, especially someone as innocent as the girl standing before her, so she says what she thinks is the most suitable answer: "It wouldn't bother me, just go get your stuff."

Brittany happily walks away; Santana waits a few minutes before exiting herself. She goes down the hallway to her own room and shuts the door. Falling onto her bed she closes her eyes; 'You're not going to be alone anymore, San. It's going to be okay.' She repeats this over and over in her head until she hears the front door open again. Slowly getting up she wipes her eyes, opening her bedroom door and looking at Brittany. She is standing in the middle of the hallway, three boxes piled in her arms, not moving.

"Santana? Is that you? I can't open the door." She starts to laugh a little, "I should have thought this through a little better." Santana goes over to the door and opens it, grabbing the top box that Brittany is holding and placing it on the floor of the room.

"Where are you from?" She can't place the accent and it's bothering her, Brittany's voice just sounds too smooth to be from Maine or anywhere nearby.

"Ohio." Her voice comes smoothly again as she unpacks some of her clothes from one of the boxes, "It's terribly boring there."

"I've never been."

"Are you from here?" Brittany looks at her as she asks, taking her clothes over to the closet to hang them up.

"I'm from New York, actually. Too much craziness there for me, I needed a place that was simple and made the days feel slower and not faster."

"I've been there before…lived there a few months, actually." There's a look on her face that proves she's not fond of the memory. "I guess I should probably tell you some of my habits so you don't have to find out the hard way."

"Go for it." She smiles at her warmly while taking a seat at the vanity.

"Well, I can't stand the sound of a dripping faucet. If the sink drips, I will try to fix it, but honestly…I don't really know how to do that. So, I end up breaking them often. Sometimes I talk in my sleep. Usually, it's my secrets or if I lied to someone, I will feel guilty and just start telling the truth in my sleep."

Santana laughs a little, "I guess I'll have a way to know if you're lying about something then, huh?"

"It's worked for other people, actually." She laughs too, "I also…I should probably tell you I have a cat."

Her eyes widen slightly, "You've been keeping a cat in your car?"

"I couldn't leave it in Ohio…"

"Where is it now?" She asks and looks around the room, luckily she isn't allergic, she's starting to think she should have overlooked the connection they had and asked a few more questions before letting her move in.

"She's in her carrier downstairs." Brittany exits the room and comes back a minute later holding a small blue carrier, unlatching the door and a white cat comes out of it. "This is Maggie." With the way the cat looks, Santana half expected a name like snowflake or marshmallow. Its hair is so fine and soft, the meow it makes is silent and sad. "When I was younger, my mother used to sing Maggie May while cleaning the dishes. I always listen to it when I miss her." She picks up the cat and sits on the bed holding it, looking into its eyes and then over at the other girl. "Why did you live alone for so long?" Santana never mentioned to her that she did live alone for a long time, but Brittany was right, it had been a long time since anybody had stayed with her. Maybe the house looks empty from the inside, kind of like how Santana feels.

"I thought I could clear my head better that way."

"And did you?"

"For awhile, I guess. Then I just ended up reaching this point of loneliness that made it hard to think of anything else. I still have a lot of unanswered questions about myself. Stuff I should have figured out a long time ago, really."  
>She doesn't answer and Santana realizes that Brittany is watching the sun set out the window, her mouth slightly open in awe. They sit in silence and soon Santana gets up and walks out of the room, heading in to the bathroom. Facing herself in the mirror, she scoops up water from the sink and splashes it over her face. Thinking about her past always winds her up in a way that makes her upset and angry – causing her skin to overheat and itch. She's only twenty-one, never went to college, works at a local bar sometimes, other times works at the small paperback bookstore a short walk from her home. She has a few friends. One's that she invites over to drink a beer every once in awhile. No boyfriend.<br>She doesn't want one. She never has.  
>That's when she stops thinking. Santana hushes her mind and strips down to go into the cramped shower. The water is at full heat and burns her skin the way she needs it too. The shower masks her tears, making her feel as if they are only there due to the water coming down on her.<br>Maybe she needs to be honest with herself.  
>Or maybe she can continue life, lying, being someone she isn't.<p>

Later that night, Santana sits on the porch with a mug full of her favorite tea, a blanket wrapped around her as she lets the cool night air hit her face. She can hear Brittany softly singing by the window upstairs, giving her chills that are not from the sea winds.  
><em>You stole my soul and that's a pain I can do without<br>All I needed was a friend to lend a helping hand  
>But you turned into a lover and mother<br>What a lover, you wore me out, all you did was wreck my bed  
>And in the morning kick me in the head<em>

Brittany's voice isn't perfect, but it doesn't need to be. The lyrics of Maggie May hover in the air, soft and sweet, Santana thinks of how Brittany mentioned she listened to the song when she missed her mother. The thought makes her smile a bit, though her heart is aching from the thoughts in her head earlier. When the screen door opens swiftly she barely notices until she catches a blur of blonde out of the corner of her eye. Brittany sits beside Santana's chair on the deck, a sweater wrapped around her pajama clad body.

"You okay?" She questions, taking the seat beside Santana.

"I don't know." Santana responds while facing the incoming waves, watching them move. "I just need to escape from my mind for a little while-you know? I feel like I can never just…stop thinking or relax."  
>Brittany looks at her with a sad expression, inhaling deeply before answering her, "You should try painting or writing. You kinda...go to another place when you do things like that. You might discover something about yourself." Brittany pats Santana lightly on the head and all Santana can smell is her perfume, vanilla and coconut. Her stomach flip flops and Brittany walks away back into the house with the words of Maggie May still on her lips, raspy but so beautiful.<br>_You stole my heart but I love you anyway  
>I'd never seen your face<br>I'll get on back home, one of these days_  
>Santana watches her quietly, the scent still lingering in the air.<br>She decides tomorrow she will try painting for the first time.


	2. Chapter 2

AN:/ Hi again! I'm so so so happy with all the alerts, favorites, and reviews I've been getting. I'm really glad everyone has responded to this in such a positive way :) I'm sorry for any errors here, because I rushed into posting it for you guys. I really hope you like it. The OC introduced (Nikki) in my canon is played by Mandy Musgrave(South of Nowhere, anyone?) for reference if you need help picturing her later on. Anyways, enough of me...enjoy!

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><p>Out on the deck with the sun shining on her hair, she dips a paintbrush in paint. Brittany is in clear view on the beach below, sitting right by the waves, her hands trailing in the sand banks. Santana likes the childlike way that her eyes shimmer in the honey colored sun. She likes it so much that she falls into painting the moment, her mind going blank as she presses the brush against the canvas. Sometimes she loses herself for a quick second, eyes fluttering shut as she melts into the swirl of paints and the bump like creases of the canvas. And when she lets them open slowly, like the flash of a butterfly's wings, she finds a teardrop creeping down her cheek. Not because it's beautiful. Not because it's horrible. But because it's raw, because it's real, because that is how she sees the world…and now here it is, in a way that she can break it or burn it or let it fall to the bottom of the ocean. Or maybe keep it. Keep it in the back of the closet or put it on a wall for all to see. Choosing one, the small fraction of a choice, feels like it might be the biggest decision she's had to make.<br>"Wow." She hears behind her, "That's a good first try." There she is. Brittany has a wide smile on her face, high-waisted shorts on and an old vintage bathing suit. It reminds Santana of the iconic picture of Farrah Fawcett that she once saw in her Grandparents garage. For a moment she imagines Brittany in front of a camera, laughing and posing, even then she seems so natural.

"Thank you." Santana realizes she doesn't see the faint swirl of blonde and the outline of the girl by the water, and if she does, she doesn't know that it's her.

"So...what do you do for fun around here?" Brittany breaks the silence casually, looking about as she notices the deserted beach.

"Well, I work at the bookstore and a local bar. It takes up my time…"

"You don't ever just let loose?" Confusion appears over her face, and Santana decides she doesn't like that look too much.

"I guess not." Santana deadpans, picking up her canvas and moving everything back into the house.

"Can I come with you to work?" Brittany follows her, "I really don't want to be alone."

Glancing at the look of the other girl, Santana pauses before answering, "Yes, of course."

The smile appears on Brittany's face again and she runs upstairs to change, Santana makes her way into the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for something to eat before making her way back upstairs to put on something more suitable for work. She settles on some cereal and eats it on the kitchen counter, finding herself back in deep thought. She didn't really know much about Brittany, she'd known her only a day, and the most she new is she was from Ohio and lived in New York at one point. Remembering the face Brittany had made while speaking of New York, Santana starts her usual scenarios in her head, trying to imagine what could have happened. Maybe it was a career gone sour, maybe her boyfriend dumped her, maybe she had another cat and it ran away in traffic. She didn't know. But she wants to. Why? Why does it even matter? It shouldn't but it does.  
>She tells herself it's because she's living in her house.<br>Santana deserved to know something, right?

The bookstore is dusty and warm. The sun shines in through the window and makes the wooden bookcases look beautiful. Brittany walks in every aisle, her hands running across the bindings of each book. Light jazz music plays overhead, Santana sits at the desk in the back of the store with another one of her romance novels, tapping her foot with the sound of the sax. Brittany comes back with a large pile of books and places them on the desk.  
>"Santana?" She questions, "I need a favor."<p>

"What?" Santana eyes the books and laughs a little at some of the titles, "You can borrow these if you don't tell anyone."

"I'd like to do that, but there's this one thing…" Her face full of confusion shows again, her eyebrows tightening together as she bites her lip. "I don't really know how to read."

Santana tilts her head to the side, placing her book down on the cool surface of the desk in front of her. Brittany has the most serious look on her face that she has ever seen, it's painful to look at, so she looks away and down to her hands. "Do you want me to…teach you?"

Then there's a stray tear she happens to see hit the desk, it isn't Santana's, and that kills her a bit inside. Seeing someone so innocent and lost like this. "You'd do that, really?" Brittany manages, her words coming out forced, "Anytime I mention it to anyone they laugh at me…" Her hand wipes the tears away from her eyes, "I'm just a stupid girl to most people."

If the tears didn't kill her before, she was dead now. The way Brittany's voice cracks and sounds so broken, it makes her stomach and body ache, because she doesn't know how to help her.  
>"You are not stupid." Santana searches for the right words, "You're one of the smartest people I've ever met."<p>

She watches as blue eyes flicker with a light that comes in and dims out, "You don't mean that." She whispers, almost to herself; like a secret she is afraid of sharing. Santana rises to her, a smile forming on her face.

"Of course I mean it. I may not know you that well, Brittany, but I know you aren't stupid. Not even a little bit." She touches Brittany's shoulder, continuing, "Just because you're not that great of a reader doesn't make you stupid. Everybody has something that they aren't that good at, but you know what?"

Brittany looks over at her, eyes all watery, "What?"

"They get better at those things with practice. Just like you will when you start practicing your reading." Santana moves her hand away from Brittany's shoulder as the owner of the bookstore walks in, her cue to move on to her next job. "Now the fun begins…" She laughs a little, grabbing a few of the books Brittany had stacked on the desk as they leave the shop. Walking side by the side they go down the small cobblestone street, people waving at Santana and looking at Brittany with slight curiosity.

"Why do people keep looking at me like that?" Brittany murmurs with obvious underlying discomfort.

"Your genius is showing." Santana nudges her and they laugh a little, "They obviously can see how smart you are."

Brittany is blushing at the point they turn into the bar, the door featuring the name 'Danny's' carved deep into the wood. When it swings open there is a crowd of people by the flat screen TVs, a few on the bar stools, and only one person behind the bar who looks relived to see Santana.  
>"San! I was wondering when you'd get here, there's a party coming tonight and I need extra hands." The woman runs about frantically, grabbing a cell phone and handing it to Santana. "I need you to call Kurt." Santana steps away and gives an apologetic look towards Brittany before heading to the backroom, leaving the two women behind.<p>

"I'm Holly." The woman says, extending a hand to Brittany, "And you are?"

"I'm Brittany, Santana's new boarder." Brittany takes Holly's hand and shakes, taking a seat at the bar.

"Ah, What brings you to a lousy place like this?" Holly scuffs, mixing a drink for Brittany and placing it in front of her, "On the house."

"Thanks." Brittany smiles and takes a sip, feeling the alcohol burns as it goes down her throat, "I just wanted to be by the ocean. Honestly, I kind of like it here, I don't think it's lousy."

"Where are you from?" Holly questions as she rests her elbows on the bar.

"Ohio originally, but I came straight from New York to here." The words 'New York' are almost like a murmur, Holly raises an eyebrow.

"Why did you say it like that?"

"I had a rough time there. Just…a bad relationship."

Santana stands behind the door as they speak, not wanting to interrupt but also wanting to hear the conversation, she doesn't feel that great about it but part of her is extremely interested. She doesn't know why.  
>Brittany sips her drink and continues, "My girlfriend at the time kicked me out. She found someone else I guess." She sighs, the older blonde looking down at her with a bit of sadness in her eyes.<p>

"Well, Brittany, I hope South Addison brings you a little love. You're a sweet girl, you deserve something special." Holly pats her hand and walks out to the backroom, almost hitting Santana with the door.

"What are you doing?" Holly shakes her head and walks around her, "Is Kurt on his way?"

"Yeah, he is." Santana reaches to push open the door when Holly grabs her shoulder.

"Play nice, Santana." Is all she says, but Santana is afraid to question it because all she can think of is Brittany's words. _Girlfriend_. She said _Girlfriend_.  
>It makes her start to wonder, 'if <em>Brittany can be that confident than why can't I'<em>?  
><em>'Because you're a coward.'<em>

The night is full of drinking and karaoke gone wrong. There's a lot of laughing, dancing, and at one point Santana is pretty sure she saw Kurt lying across the bar singing 'Bennie and the Jets'. But she overlooks it, she wants to be happy, she really does. But she can't. Not in a room full of confident people, people she looks up to. So she finds herself in the employee's only restroom, shaking with feelings she can't comprehend. Her head screaming at her, _"Who am I? Who am I?"_ Her body trembling as her stomach spins. She can't help it when her sob overtakes her, a huge breath slipping in and everything falling out. Then there's that knock on the door and she has to put on that stupid fake smile once more. Opening the door a crack she peers out to see Kurt, his eyes baggy and worried, "Are you okay?" He questions, looking concerned. All she does is nod and smile at him, her eyes clearly red but he's too drunk to notice. "Then can I pee?" And she tries to laugh for him, letting him in and exiting out. Santana wipes her eyes and looks around for Brittany, waiting to go home. Slowly she walks around the bar, going through the crowds of people, but never spotting her. Her heart flutters nervously and she goes to find Holly instead, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Have you seen Brittany?" She has to shout it over the music.

"She left with someone; I think it was…that Nikki girl?" Holly shrugs, "They seemed to be getting along."

"Oh…okay." Santana's voice becomes smaller than it should, "I'm going home now." They hug and she turns away with a loss for words.

Her walk back home is quiet. It feels normal, because it is, it is how it always was. There's that feeling deep down in her gut. The feeling she has every time before she goes to bed and looks over at the empty side next to her. It's loneliness. Santana unlocks the front door and goes inside to her empty house, up to her empty room, peels off her clothes, and falls into her bed in her underwear. She wants to feel cold. Because it's better than feeling nothing at all.

And then the light goes on downstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

AN:/ All I can say is I'm sorry for any typos! I'm tired and its hard to check over it and not miss at least one thing. Here's chapter three, enjoy!

The door closes a little too loudly and there's a soft rumble of thunder as it does. Santana hears footsteps on the stairs before her door is pushed open, light filling it up; she pulls her covers over her body tightly. Brittany stands there, makeup smeared on her face, shaking and obviously drenched from the rain.  
>"Santana?" She slurs, "Can I come in?"<p>

"No." Santana answers, her face heating up, anger and jealousy running through her veins.

"Why not?" Brittany pouts, ignoring what Santana says and walking into her room, "Can I wear your clothes?"

Sighing, Santana sits up in her bed, reaching down and putting on her shirt on the floor by her bed as quickly as she can. "Why do you want to come in, anyway? You ditched me, remember?"

Brittany overlooks what she says again as she undresses, pulling on a pair of Santana's shorts and a t shirt, thunder rolls in once more. She jumps. Landing softly into Santana's bed she makes a small whining noise, "I hate storms. I hate them so much." She crawls towards Santana and hides in the pillows around her.

"What about Nikki?" Santana questions, "Why didn't you stay with her?" The tone in her voice is harsh, not that she meant it to be, not when Brittany is shaking in her bed the way she is.

Brittany mumbles something in the pillow that Santana can't understand, but she chooses to not question it again, placing a hand on Brittany's back. "Hey, it's okay. It's just rain."

"It's not that." She turns on her side and faces Santana, "It's the memories it brings." Lightning flashes out the window and soon Santana has Brittany so close their noses are touching. "Sorry." She whispers.

"It's okay…do you want to talk about it?" Brittany turns away from Santana and looks up at the ceiling, hearing the pitter-patter as the rain falls on the roof. Her breathing follows along with it before she decides to talk.

"One night when I was sixteen, I told my parents something really big." Brittany finally speaks up, gulping, "I expected it to go okay, I didn't think what would happen would."

"What did you tell them?" Santana knows the answer, but she wants it to be something else, there's goose bumps on her forearms, her neck, even her goddamn ankles.

"I told them that I'm gay." The words take a few seconds to fully slip from Brittany's lips, her buzz from earlier in the night still lingering, "and it's not like my parents were ever homophobes, I had a lot of gay friends that they always seemed to like." She faces Santana like before but with more distance, "I'll never forget the way my dad looked at me, the way he told me to get out of his house, how my mom helped him throw my clothes out on the lawn. It was pouring that night, the rain was almost hail-like, and it stung my skin. But I couldn't leave so I – I just sat outside all night."

Santana's eyes are full of tears looking for an escape route, she feels like she might be choking, "Oh, Brittany." She reaches her hand to touch Brittany's face, "Did they let you back in?"

"Yes." She closes her eyes, "Just because they wanted me to take Maggie and clean out my room. They didn't even stay home when they let me in." A tear rolls freely down Brittany's cheek, she sighs as she wipes it out of the picture; "Things are different now. I really hated myself then."  
>Santana looses it then, similar to how she felt in the bathroom hours before, because she hates herself. She hates herself like Brittany did. For the same reason, all because she's different, because she's not what a girl is <em>'supposed'<em> to be, and most of all because she's not confident. She's no Brittany, she's no Kurt. She's just Santana: a liar, a secret-keeper, a loner.  
>Brittany's eyes widen at the sight of the other girl, her arms wrapping around her as she tries to calm her down. "Santana, it's okay, it's okay."<p>

"It's not, Brittany. It's not, not even a little." Santana finds herself curling up into the arms around her, though everything in her head is saying to push them away, to tell Brittany to leave the room. She doesn't listen to her head; she listens to another voice – her heart.

Santana wakes up beside someone else for the first time. And it feels good. It feels really good.  
>She gets dressed and goes downstairs to grab the sketchbook she bought with her other art supplies, heading outside to the sandy beach. There aren't many people around, just a few groups near the opposite side of where she chooses to sit away from it all so she can take everything in. It's weird how someone can live in a place for years, and never really see what it looks like. Really looks like. Santana wonders if it's the same with a person. Maybe she had met the right person years ago, but never looked at them the correct way, or maybe she hadn't even looked at herself the right way in the moments she spent eying herself in the mirror, searching for some form of imperfection. She flips through her sketchbook, watching empty pages pass by, until she catches a little scribble of writing on the corner of one of them. Some letters are caps and some are lowercase, scribbled just like a child's writing, it takes her a moment to figure out what it says: "You can do it – B"<br>And then she can't stop sketching, Santana doesn't even know what she is drawing until she drops the pencil in the sand, her brain relaxing. Then she looks at it, a picture of the ocean with two dark eyes hovering above it in the sky. It's dark – too dark. So much that it makes her put the sketchbook aside, and think of her childhood. Her escape.

A small Santana Lopez sits on the swings, her feet kicking her up higher and higher. Another girl is beside her, two long braids hanging on the sides of her head, a laugh that echoes each time she swings high enough to shake the swing set.

"Sanny! Look, look! It's like we're flying." The girl says, "Like Peter Pan."

"I want to be Peter!" Santana says, "But only if you're Wendy."

The two of them stop swinging and run off into the playground, arms extended like airplanes, screaming about never land. They fall in the sandbox and laugh and laugh. So carefree, so happy. It's a routine, everyday they play. House, dolls, hopscotch, jump rope.  
>It stops over the years, becoming less frequent, until the other girl shuts her out completely when they turn thirteen. Quinn Fabray.<br>Santana pushes her out of her mind. That was then, this is now. Her hands trail through the sand, as she watches a couple walk beside the shore of the water, carrying on about pointless things. But they're happy, she notices, their smiles aren't forced and their eyes aren't empty. She wants that.  
>But how can she reach it? There are a lot of steps to getting somewhere comfortable, to finding someone.<br>_Who am I?_ She asks the sky, the sun, the faded moon. _Help me._

When she gets home Brittany is laying on the couch with a bag of frozen vegetables on her eyes.

"Hangover?" Santana questions, watching Brittany nod with a groan.

"You know it."

"I guess it's not a good time to practice your reading then?" Santana moves Brittany's feet and sits down, placing them back into her lap.

"No, definitely not." Brittany wiggles her toes, "I wish, I really want to do that."

"You will soon, I promise."

"A promise is a big thing."

"I know. But, this is one I know I can keep." Santana rests the back of her head on the couch, sighing deeply, "Do you remember last night at all?"

"Of course. I wasn't that drunk. I just don't drink often, so it kind of hits me hard when I do." She sits up and swings her legs off of Santana, "Why did you cry so much? I can't remember that, did I do something?"

"No! Of course not. I just…what you said affected me."

"Why?" Santana starts to think Brittany asks too many questions.

"Are you hungry? There's this restaurant we can drive to that I think you'd like." Santana gets up and walks around, trying to act busy and distracted.

"Santana, I'm not stupid."

"I never called you that, you're far from it."

"Then stop trying to distract me and tell me what's up." Brittany smiles a little, reaching out to her.

"Just…I can't really talk about it." Santana takes a breath, "It's a touchy subject right now."

Brittany just looks at her, "You can tell me anything, I promise I won't judge you."

"It's not you…" _It's me, It's all me. _"I'm just not ready to talk about it." Santana heads up the stairs and goes into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, her chest tightens. There's a decision to be made that she doesn't feel like making. _Why can't things be simple? Why can't they just be written on people's faces? Why do I have to say the hardest words that have ever exited my mouth?_

"I'm gay." She says it to the air, because it will listen.


	4. Chapter 4

AN:/ I'm sorry this took awhile, I just wasn't sure what direction to take it exactly and my writer's block got the best of me. I also apologize for this being so short, but it's still an important chapter. Thank you for all the reviews and support, I love you guys! Song Santana sings: My Blue Heaven by Taking Back Sunday.

There is nothing like the feeling of a warm blanket completely wrapped around a shaking body, warming it up, making it feel safe, comfortable, substituting for love. For arms, for kisses, for that overwhelming weight being pulled off her chest and thrown out to sea. It's just a blanket. But it's enough for now. There's a routine. Get up, brush yourself off, glance in the mirror, question every detail. The outside and the inside. The beauty. The beast. What's the mirror is the truth. Something Santana and Brittany have both been dancing around for a few days now, Brittany trying to move closer while Santana stands in the way. The game is getting old.

"Do you ever feel like you don't have enough time?" Brittany questions Santana over dinner.

"What do you mean?" Santana looks at her plate without looking up, wondering where this is going.

"To just…live, you know?" Brittany breathes out her words choppy as she looks off into space, her eyes dreamy and rich. "There's so much I want to see, so many places to go. I want to fall in love a hundred times with the same person as we travel the world." She laughs a little, "I don't know, I probably just sound stupid."

"No, you don't." Santana takes a moment before looking up from her plate, "I want that, too." She imagines them on a plane together, interlacing hands and taking off,  
>flying.<br>_'Like Peter Pan and Wendy'_

__Her heart hurts. "Have you ever seen Peter Pan?" She asks Brittany, picking up their empty plates and putting them in the dishwasher. Brittany's eyes light up a little.  
>"Of course!"<p>

"I always wanted that kind of life. Full of magic and never growing up. It's so easy being a kid."

"Are you going to tell me what's up?" The blonde approaches Santana, her head tilted to the side, "It's been bothering me, seeing you look that way."

"Look what way?" She starts absentmindedly running her hands over her hair, smoothing out her clothes, wiping at her face.

"It's in your eyes. I look at them and I feel this weight press down on me, they seem so heavy, I start to wonder if you'll fall over." She tries to laugh, but she fails, licking over her lips as she waits for any response.

"I've just never told anyone."

"Let me be the first to know."

"I don't even know you." Suddenly it's like a reality show gone bad, a hand extended to Santana's as a form of introduction.

"Hi, I'm Brittany Pierce. I'm twenty-one. I like girls, music, dancing, and watching the waves on the beach. I want to go to every place in the world at least once. I want to feel beautiful when I have a mask of wrinkles over my face, because someone loves every single one of those wrinkles. I want to read. I hate the rain. I don't like New York. I had a girlfriend who wanted a boyfriend. I-"

Santana puts a hand over her mouth, "Brittany."

"What?" Brittany says, muffled by the hand over her lips.

"We're one in the same, ok?" She catches her confusion, "Goddamnit."

Brittany removes Santana's hand, "Hey, don't cry." But the other girl shakes her away murmuring how she just can't, she can't. "You can. You can." Brittany tells her repetitively.

The words fill Santana up but the weight keeps her down. She wonders if it's enough to make her drown, so the waves can bring her in, and she can be buried in sand. But then there are those eyes, standing tall above the darkness inside her, pulling her out of the water towards the land.  
><em>A light house. Her light house.<em>

__"I'm gay." Santana finally whispers without meeting Brittany's eyes. She gulps and her chest rises and falls with it. All she can see is the waves rolling in and the childlike motions of Brittany running towards them, letting herself get lost in the salty sea.  
>She would never let go completely, not like Santana would, because Brittany is already free. She doesn't have to escape.<br>Everything goes black.  
><em>Just for a little while<em>, she thinks.

"Santana?" Brittany is hovering over her and the familiarity of her bed lies beneath her shaking frame. "Oh, S." She strokes the pieces of hair stuck on Santana's clammy forehead away from her eyes, a small and sad smile across her face. "You're going to be ok. Look at me, I'm okay. Kurt's okay. There are millions of people just like you."

"I'm not like them, Brittany. I'm not strong."

"I'll help you." Brittany smiles at her. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"I just want to be normal."

"You are normal. You're just your own kind of normal, that's all."

Santana shifts to get a better look at Brittany, because this is the sweetest and most comforting thing anyone has ever said to her. "You are a really good friend." She tells her and Brittany puts her arms around Santana, wrapping her in them like a blanket. There's a lot of symbolism in this moment. She starts to wonder if Brittany is it. The comfort, the arms to hold her, the mouth to kiss her own. It's too soon to know.

But it feels right. Waking up with Brittany's hair covering her face, their foreheads still touching. There's an urge the pit of her stomach that she has to ignore. Because this girl isn't hers, she may never be, and she has to be a good friend. Then Brittany opens her eyes and looks at her softly, every inch of her face relaxed.

"Hi." She sounds so small.

"Hey." And Santana sounds like she could break her.

"Do you feel…better?" Brittany seems unsure of what words to use. It shows on her face.

"I don't really know."

"Oh."

"There's one thing I do know though." Santana finds Brittany's hand and holds it gently, "And that is that you are one of the most smart, most caring, and most loving people I have ever met."

Brittany blushes, "You're too nice to me sometimes."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I haven't always been that great to you. I ditched you that night, remember?"

"But you came back."

"I'll always come back."

_And it's all too familiar_  
><em>And it happens all the time<em>  
><em>All the cards begin to stack up<em>  
><em>Twisting heartache into fine, little pieces that avoid an awful crime<em>  
><em>But it's you I can't deny<em>

She sings along with the headphones placed in her ears, running along the edge of the water. Brittany walks behind her slowly, following her voice. Brittany doesn't know the song but she doesn't have to. The way Santana looks singing, stopping in mid run, eyes watery but no longer heavy – it's beautiful. But she can't help but think they are somewhat strangers. Even though there's this pull, like a magnet, trying to bring them closer that she just wants to ignore.

_But double standardized suspicion is remedied  
>Oh, My Blue Heaven<br>Sometimes it just feels better to give in  
><em>  
>Santana sits in the sand with her legs pulled up to her body. Sometimes it feels like she is falling for Brittany. Other times it just feels like its happening because there is no one else. Looking to her side, she sees Brittany, her blue eyes flickering with wonder. Arms stretched over her head as she laughs a bit to herself, running into the waves. There's something about her. Something that just feels <em>right.<em>

_Is this all too familiar?_  
><em>Does it happen all the time?<em>  
><em>I'm just asking you to hear me<em>  
><em>Could you please, just once, just hear me?<em>  
><em>More than anything you wanted to be right<em>  
><em>Still it's you, you,<em>  
><em>It's you I can't deny.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Hi guys! Sorry for such a delay in the update, I have been doing a lot of side projects and it's hard to just sit down and get wrapped up in writing. This chapter is a little touch to get through. I hope its okay though! I'm sorry for any errors, I only have my spell check as an editor. P.s anyone want to make some art for this story? I would love to see some!

_You're cordially invited to celebrate  
>the wedding of<br>Kurt E. Hummel  
>and<br>Blaine R. Anderson  
><em>

It appears in the mailbox the next day. Something that would usually make Santana feel lonely somehow doesn't. Instead, it gives her this sense of comfort that is overwhelming. That maybe there's hope?

When its time for her to go to work, Brittany lays on the sofa with Maggie curled around her feet, a book open on her stomach, her eyes shut. Santana finds herself smiling and leaving a note. The walk to the beach isn't lonely, with the sounds of seagulls in her ears and the familiar scent of salt and fish filling her nose its – comforting, again. It is home.

The bar feels dustier than usual; it's almost empty, except someone in the far corner of the bar. Her sits on the stools with his head lowered, nose nearly tossing the tip of his shot glass. The door in the back room swings open and Kurt appears in a swirl of laughter and color. Blaine follows his, less announced, heading over to work on the old juke box in the front of the room.

"Santana!" Kurt coos, outstretching his long arms, "Did you meet my brother?" The stranger now raises his head, making himself at least three inches taller than he was before; she realizes that he's definitely over six feet tall. Suddenly, his side of the room looks weighed down. Santana studies him, noticing the dark bags under his eyes, the forced smile.  
>"I'm Finn."<p>

"Oh! Yeah. I've heard a lot about you. Good things, of course." And Santana's not lying. She has. Some night where there aren't many customers, Kurt would pull out two glasses and they'd sit with their feet dangling while on the bar counter. They would share more as the nights and drinks kicked in, those moments were blurry in her head, but they felt important. Kurt would speak of Finn then, but only then.

"He's here for awhile, visiting and helping with the wedding preparations. The time difference from California is really wearing him down, right Finn?"

"Yeah. That." Santana can tell by the tone of Finn's voice that there is more to it, but she ignores the painful look in his eyes for just a moment.

"Congrats by the way, to both of you." Blaine looks up and smiles, Kurt blushes.

"You'll be there right?" Kurt says in almost a whisper, "Brittany too?"

"I wouldn't miss it." She looks over to Finn, his head now back to its previous place. "Whats going on with him?"  
>She tries to whisper, she really does, but he catches it anyways.<p>

"Just tell her, I know you will later when I'm not around anyways." Finn mumbles, shaking his shot glass to inform Kurt its empty.

Kurt goes to the opposite side of the bar and fills the glass, "Someone from his past tried to contact him." He tells Santana.

"Special someone?"

Kurt grimaces, "Something like that."

"High school sweetheart."Finn blurts.

"Ex-wife." Kurt corrects.

"Whoa?" Santana laughs a little, titling her head.

"It was for one night, Kurt." Finn pauses, connecting eyes with Santana, "Vegas."

"Ah. Why the sudden contact then?"

"To rub her successfulness in his face."

Then Blaine steps up, "Kurt, you know she –"

"Just because she's out friend doesn't mean we can't be honest."

Santana shakes her head, walking to the back of the bar, Kurt following her. "I need a favor." He says, "A big one."

"What would that be ?" Santana smirks a little, watching Kurt blush.

"I need you to cheer up my brother." He says this cautiously, "And by cheer up I mean sleep with."

Santana arches an eyebrow, "Why on earth would I agree to do that?"

"Because you love me? I don't know Santana, I'm just sick of watching him mope like this. I finally get him to come out here and he's starting to make me depressed. I swear I heard him mumbling about suicide the other night."  
>Santana can tell Kurt is playing up the problem, but either way her palms are sweating. She thinks now would be a good time to confide in Kurt, but he's looking at her with these eyes. She knows he's a good actor, he acts in local shows all the time, but this is taking it to a new level.<p>

"Okay. One date. I'm not promising any sex." She regrets it the minute the words slip from her mouth.

"Maggie, tonight I am going to woo Santana." Brittany says to her cat as she pulls cookbooks from the cupboards, "I hope it's not too soon." She searches for a recipe and begins to cook, humming silently to herself as she does. The food takes awhile and so does Santana. But Brittany is okay with that for a change, she goes upstairs and slips on a red dress, curling her hair and putting on makeup. Maggie sits beneath her feet as she does so, Brittany casually speaking her mind as if the cat is listening. Time goes by, Brittany sits at the dining room table, waiting for any sign of Santana.  
>Its about two hours later when Santana comes inside, her face wet with tears, body trembling.<p>

"Santana? What's wrong?" Brittany tries to catch her, but Santana outruns her up the stairs. The bathroom door slams and she hears the water running. Brittany places a palm to the door, it opening at the light touch. Santana stands under the shower, fully clothed, her arms crossed tightly around her chest.

"Brittany, go." Her teeth chatter, "You don't need to see me like this."

"No. I'm staying." She takes a few steps towards her and tries to smile, "Tell me what's wrong."

"I can't." Santana shakes under the water, "You'll hate me."

"I could never hate you." Brittany pauses, "Tell me before I come in there." Her arms extend to pull the curtain open wider, her foot dangling over the edge of the tub.

"I fucked Kurt's brother." Santana falls apart then, slipping downward and falling to the bottom of the tub. She clutches her knees, sobs taking over her body.

Brittany doesn't really have a reaction to what Santana says. She doesn't know what to do. Part of her really wants to run out of the room, slam her bedroom door and scream into the pillows. But the other part? It wants to hold this fragile girl, tell her how much she is loved, and just sing to her until she stops crying.  
>She removes her dress and folds it, placing it on the bathroom counter. She steps into the shower and turns off the water, grabbing Santana and holding her in her arms. Santana feels helpless, scared, confused. Brittany only feels love. When you care about someone, you do what you can to help them when they aren't happy. You don't walk away when someone needs you.<p>

"C'mon, you need to get out of these wet clothes. Want me to make you a bath? It'll make you feel better." Brittany strokes Santana's hair, still holding her close. Slowly she helps her out of the bathtub and holds her hand as they walk to her room, Brittany doesn't even care about how she looks, makeup smeared and underwear soaked through from holding Santana. She grabs a bathrobe from Santana's closet and hands it to her. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." Santana says, small and scared, "Help?" She's still trembling, and as Brittany reaches to help her pull of her shirt, she begins to tremble too. She tries to do it quickly, careful not to stare at Santana's body for too long. When she's done she wraps the robe around her, and Santana falls back in to her bed. The sobbing has ended, but her face shows the struggle.

"Can we talk about it?"

"I just…Kurt guilt ripped me into it. And then Finn, his brother, he just kept looking at me like he needed something. I couldn't stand it anymore." She turns and faces Brittany, who is now wearing one of Santana's shirts and a pair of shorts. "Then you were here waiting for me…weren't you?"

"Yes." Brittany squeaks, "But it's okay."

"No, it isn't. You were just sitting here waiting to be so sweet, while I'm off fucking some guy." She pauses, "It isn't fair to you."

"We aren't dating, Santana. It's okay. I understand that you're confused." Brittany tries to smile, "It's okay."  
>"You keep saying that."<p>

"Because it's all I can think of to say."

"How about something like…I want to be with you someday?" Santana whispers, "That's what I want to say to you."

"You aren't ready just yet." Brittany sighs, "As much as I wish you were."

"But I can be, for you."

"San…" She breathes in, her eyes watering, "Not yet. I can't get my heart broken again. I need you to be sure of yourself."

Santana nods, rolling onto her back, looking up at the ceiling. Her bedroom window is open and she can hear the sound of the water hitting the shore. Part of her wishes she could be back at the first day she saw Brittany. Back to a much simpler day. If only she would have known what they could be.

When Santana is awoken by the sunlight leaking through her curtains, Brittany isn't anywhere to be found. She can still smell her in her sheets, to a point where it makes her spine tingle with the hint of a shiver. She gets up and glances out the window, to find exactly what she expected to find, Brittany laying out in the sun. Inhaling, she remembers the events of the previous night, Santana isn't sure what she is supposed to say or do anymore. Her phone sits on his dresser, glowing from missed texts and calls from Kurt and Finn. Then there is one text slipped in between the rest, that she almost wouldn't have noticed.  
><em>Hi, this is Blaine. I heard about last night and I was just hoping that you're okay. You know…I've seen the way you look at her. She's a nice girl. You'll figure it out.<em>

How is everyone so sure? How does everyone seem to notice her feelings for Brittany? Santana feels something at her feet, Maggie. The cat purrs and rubs against her legs, she picks Maggie up and sits on her bed holding the cat in her arms.

"I'm sorry about what I did to your Mom, Mags. I hope she'll forgive me." The cat only purrs in response, Santana feels ridiculous.

"I already forgave you." Brittany murmurs, "I saw you look out from the window, I was waiting for you to wake up."

"Oh." Santana puts the cat on the ground, avoiding eye contact with Brittany as she speaks, "Listen, I know I messed up. But, you were right last night, about me not being ready. I'm not. But I want to be, I really do. I want to be with you someday."

Brittany smiles, biting her lip, "Really?"

"Really. You are an amazing girl, Brit. I just…I can't accept myself just yet. I'm getting closer to it, but I'm having a hard time. If I'm going to be with you, I want to do it right, I want to not have to hide my feelings."

"I understand." Brittany walks towards her and then wraps her arms around Santana, "Meanwhile, can we be best friends?"

"Of course." Santana says, rubbing Brittany's back as they hug, "I'll always be your friend."

_But I'd rather be your lover._


	6. Chapter 6

AN:/ I have to say this loud and clear this chapter includes a **TRIGGER WARNING**. If you are triggered by anything to do with blood, cuts, etc please please avoid reading this. I do not want anyone to be triggered by this, because that is not the purpose of why I included what I did. There is a lot of sweet moments in here, but I have had somewhat of a sad day and it seeped in to my writing. I'm sorry for how long this update has taken, but I just needed some time to figure it all out. I want to say thank you to all the readers and I hope you enjoy this one! There's a lot in store for these two :) Feel free to review!  
>p.s my only editor is spellcheck and myself, sorry for any mistakes. <p>

The book sits on Brittany's lap, open and untouched. She's stuck on one word and it's nearly killing Santana to watch her like this, focused and frustrated the way she is.

"Let me help you." Santana says, reaching for the book, only to be shoved away.

"I need to do this myself." Brittany's finger traces the word as she tries to pronounce it, hiding the book from Santana.

"Just let me see it." Santana whispers and Brittany sighs, handing the book over to her, but as it transfers into the other girls hands the pages rustle.  
>The first word that catches Santana's eye is 'love'.<br>She slams the book shut.

"Do you want to go for a walk or something?" Santana questions, "We can go get coffee? I know you love the coffee shop. You're eyes always light up when you're there."

"I just want to be normal." Brittany murmurs. "Not even smart, just normal. Average. I'll take anything but this." Brittany picks up the book, dropping it to the floor with a crash. "I want to be that girl at coffee shops with the book in her hand, lost in that world…that's why I love it so much there. It is different here, Santana. Less laptops more books and stories. Yet I can't be a part of that, so how do I know if I belong here?"

Santana eyes the girl, her eyes getting heavy, "You don't think you belong here?"  
><em>With me?<br>_  
>"I didn't mean it like that." Brittany gets up, "You know, when I came here, I didn't expect to meet anyone. I came here to escape a lot of things that you don't even know about. Now I've met you and I get more and more confused. Sometimes I just want to kiss you, and other times I want to.."<p>

"Want to what?" Santana's voice cracks, her breathing and heat rate speeding up.

"Leave you. Leave this. After the thing with...what's-his-name. But then you know what I realized?"

She doesn't know if she wants to ask. "What?"

"I would just come back."

"Really?" Santana hears some strength start to build in her voice, "You would come back for me?"

"Every time." Brittany nearly whispers as she walks away from the bed. Santana hears her run down the stairs and the door quietly closing.

Sometimes things feel really shitty.  
>There are too many options. To rush into what could be perfect, to keep Brittany with her as a friend until she's ready, to run away…<br>The last one shouldn't be an option; Santana tries to remind herself this as she glances out the window. Brittany isn't in her regular spot on the beach. But in the waves, floating on his back and looking up at the sky. She's still clothed and it's probably freezing, yet something about the image nearly breaks Santana. All she wants is for this girl to be safe, to be loved, to have everything she ever wanted.  
>Santana can't do that.<br>She doesn't know if she ever can.  
>It fucking kills her to know that.<br>There's stairs and she walks down them, there's a door and she's opens it, there's sand that is hurting her feet but nothing matters.  
>So she does run, but towards Brittany, because this is the time she has and she doesn't want to waste it. She splashes in the water, feeling the cold creep to her bones, chilling her but also making her feel alive.<br>She lays next to Brittany in the water, floating on her back as well, and takes her hand.  
>Then she looks over to see Brittany for what feels like the first time. The sun is glistening on her face, making everything feel warm even though it is nowhere near it, and her blue eyes match the water surrounding her. They almost look as if there are waves moving in and out of them, little specks floating a long her ocean eyes.<br>She doesn't really think about what she is doing when she does it.  
>Rolling over and feeling her knees digging into the rocky sand as she hovers above Brittany's floating figure. She kisses her. It isn't as perfect as she had imagined, the water somewhat intervening, and Brittany seems to be started at first.<br>But it gets better.  
>The kiss starts to flow and everything feels like it was made to be the way it is in the moment. Their lips mold together, tongues collide but find their place, and every little movement seems to be coordinated to <em>work<em>. They kiss until it's like they can't breathe, still surrounded by water, nearly drowning in each other.  
>When the kiss breaks, Santana feels warm. The water isn't extinguishing the fire that is building up inside her, she has no idea if anything will do such a thing, and she isn't quite sure if she wants it to.<p>

"Santana…" Brittany murmurs as they move get out of the water, clothes drenched and sticking to their skin.

"Yes?" Santana notices Brittany's teeth chattering, they walk side by side in the quiet for a little while.  
>"Just making sure you're real."<p>

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because…I thought you didn't…I thought maybe you didn't want me." Brittany takes awhile to get the words out, "Saying something and doing it are two different things."

Santana shakes her head, her hair shedding water droplets as they approach the front door together. "No." Is all she can manage to reply as they head to the bathroom to get towels. "I knew I wanted you before I even knew you're name."

She hears Brittany gulp, stripping away her wet clothes and quickly hiding under a towel. "You mean that? Really?"

"I mean it." What she doesn't mean to do is reveal her skin, forgetting what is going on and removing her clothes because of the fact that they are just uncomfortable. Brittany is staring, though. Her eyes looking at her up and down without any shame. Santana grabs a towel. "I'm not ready for you to...see that yet." She whispers.

"What was that mark? It was…right here." Brittany gestures on her own body at a place right on the left side of her chest.

"It's a tattoo." Santana says, holding her towel closer to her body, "I got it when I was sixteen. I thought I was a badass."

"What is it of?"

As if to answer her, Santana drops her towel a bit, exposing the skin on her chest, there's a clear scar running along and past where the towel is hiding and over all of it is a line of butterflies looking as if they were taking fight. As if maybe they were trying to escape whatever pain Santana experienced when she received that scar.

"What happened?" Brittany looks so sad when she asks that Santana doesn't even want to answer her.

The flashback happens as she retells the story, the image of her Mother hovering over her body, eyes looking full of worry and concern. Everything was blurry, the images broken and not in order. Her Mother was on the phone, screaming, the room looked like it was shaking back and forth. Then the phone fell to the ground, her eyes closed, and her Mother's body fell on top of her own.  
>They laid there together, Santana's blood a blanket on the two of them, surrounding in a pool; mixing with the salt of tears, forming something else. Something heavier, worse, thick and creating a stain that not only seeped into clothing, but all the way to the heart.<br>_"You aren't dying, Santana. No."_ Her mother would say these words as her blood covered hands touched Santana's face. _"You are staying with me. You are staying…"_  
>She was thirteen. Frail, scared. The knife was pretty; it was shining in the light that filled their kitchen, the kitchen where her mother baked with her, where they laughed together and created memories. The kitchen that night turned into a different place. This place was different. It was scary, it was dark, the tiles went from white to red, and the sound of laughter was replaced with the sounds of screams.<br>She just hated herself that much.  
>Enough to let a knife sink into her chest, watching as her hand shook and made a trail where droplets of blood found their emergency exit.<br>The hospital room they put her in was made for children. Santana felt that if she was old enough to do this, she was old enough to be in the adult ward. The doctor's never listened to her. Instead, they continued sewing her up, creating a rag doll, and moving her about the building like a puppet. She was sick of being someone else's toy. When her wound recovered they suggested therapy, her mother told them to "Fuck off" and they went to a hotel.  
>Because home? It wasn't home anymore. It was hell.<p>

Brittany is crying, her hands finding Santana, whose face is expressionless, and holding her. "Why would you do that? Why would you ever hurt yourself like that? You were so young…"

"I was bullied at school." Santana replies, "I had…seen suicide before." The memory of her father frightens her, the way he was in the chair. His chair he sat in everyday after work, the gun in his lap, the blood from his head leaking and covering the features that they shared.

"I…I wish I knew you then." Brittany says, nuzzling into Santana's neck, "I would have protected you. I would have done something. Maybe I would have punched the bullies. Beat them all up."

Santana smiles a small, delicate smile, kissing Brittany's hair. "It's done now, but thank you."

"Did you think that would scare me away?" Brittany finds herself getting closer to Santana, in ways she didn't really know were possible, "Nothing will. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because now I have something new to do for you." Brittany looks up; Santana wishes she could capture the look she gives in that moment. She looks strong, her hair wet and stringy, her towel wrapped around her, yet her face almost like stone. As if she's a statue, a reminder of the past, a fighter who even now doesn't stop fighting. She continues finally, "Keep you safe."

"I always thought I would be the one to do that for you." Santana says quietly, her arms no longer protecting her body; she opens herself up to Brittany. They shift and Santana soon has Brittany in her arms, sighing and causing her breath to hit Santana's neck. The warmth appears again, reminding her of only moments before. Santana doesn't know why she waited so long to have this. Everything feels right. It feels _good_. It's nice to be able to tell someone everything and still have them want you. To have them say they'll protect you. To listen to their heartbeat as they cling to your body, breathing you in, molding in ways that prove they are made for each other.  
>She doesn't want to let go.<p>

One day she hopes for I love yous and goodnight kisses and intimate moments together.  
>But that's the future. For now, she can enjoy this.<br>The way Brittany sleeps.  
>The way she smiles softly and from the heart.<br>The way her eyelashes flutter.  
>The way she looks when she watches the sunset from the bedroom window.<br>And most of all, the way she appreciates Santana, looks at her, and speaks to her.  
>Santana doesn't want to label them, not just yet, but they are somewhere dancing on this borderline together. The dancing doesn't hurt her feet, no, it only builds her up. The dancing brings the strength and the push…<br>for that one day to happen.


	7. Chapter 7

AN:/ Hey guys! Thanks for your continued support of this story... it really means a lot to me. If you're interested to see the different clothing mentioned in this chapter, check out my profile for a link! Thank you again for all your reviews and so on! :)

There's something beautiful about the sun. Not in ways that people would usually see it, photographed hovering above the ocean on the back of a postcard, but in a way where it shimmers along strands of blonde. Santana analyzes just this as they walk to their seats, violins playing softly as the scenery is digested by the two of them.

"Wow, Kurt really went all out, huh?" Brittany says as they sit down, the sand is right beneath them, and Santana swears she sees Brittany remove her shoes and place her feet in it.

"Yeah. He did." She inhales sharply, not sure if she really wants to be here after what Kurt pushed her to do the last time they spoke. She tries to remind herself that he didn't know, but…it's hard to do.

"This is kind of exciting. I've never been to a wedding like this before. If you know what I mean." Brittany smiles a little, "It gives me hope for myself one day." Santana takes her hand then and squeezes it, not saying anything but sending her the message: 'Not just you - for us one day.'

Soon the beach is full and it becomes silent for a brief moment. Santana looks over and Brittany is looking at her, a smile on her face that is more real than ever. Santana can't help but smile back at her.  
>The music begins playing, consisting of piano only this time as Blaine walks down the aisle, his hands shaking, eyes focused on the back of Santana's head. She doesn't notice it right away but she feels it. She feels for him. He looks scared, his parents watching his every move, he looks like he wants to run.<p>

"It's okay." She says, no sound escaping her. He reads her lips as he reaches the arch: he smiles.  
>The ceremony is short. When they kiss, Santana half aspects fireworks, but it's all very gentle. She notices that Blaine has been crying during the majority of the time he was up there. She feels her heart swell up. That's what she wants.<p>

The reception is under a giant tent on the beach, there's so many chairs that Santana almost wonders where they'll dance. But it's organized for the events. The music is already playing and as they sit down she sees Brittany tapping her foot.

"Will you dance with me?" Brittany asks, "When it's time?"

Santana nods incoherently, swearing a disheveled Blaine running over to their table, "Hi! I'm so glad you made it." He kisses her cheek. "You guys look great."

"Thanks. The ceremony was beautiful." Santana smiles, nudging Brittany to speak.

"Yeah! It was really nice. It made me want to get married." Brittany giggles a little, Blaine smiles at her.

"I hope I get to go to your wedding someday." Blaine says and Santana notices he's speaking to both of them; she blushes heavily, looking away. "Anyways, I see the man of the hour walking in, so I have to go dance. Have fun tonight, girls." He laughs a little, waves, and walks - more like runs – towards Kurt.

Light, airy music plays and they go to the dance floor together. Now lacking their fancy tuxes and wearing simple clothes, Santana watches the way they cling to one another. Her eyes feel heavy; she bites at her lip as she watches them. They aren't graceful at all, tripping over each other's feet here and there, but they are acting as if their bodies are one. They both gesture for everybody else to dance and Santana looks over to catch Brittany watching her, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Hey, San?"

"Yeah?"

Brittany gets up from her seat, extends her hand and laughs through her tears, "Dance with me?"

Santana rises and takes her hand. She's secretly thankful that it's a slow song. Brittany puts her arms around Santana's neck and they look at each other, losing the control of their movement as the music carries them.

"Britt?" Santana whispers, "Can you promise me something?"

"Anything." Santana leans her head against Brittany's shoulder, taking in the moment.

"Promise me you'll never forget this."

Brittany drops her arm and finds Santana's, holding her hand for a brief moment before interlocking their smallest fingers – a pinky promise. "I promise." She says, then kisses Santana's hair. The music stops and dinner is about to be served, Kurt grabs Santana's arm.

"I'm sorry." He says, "I'm insensitive and stupid."

"You aren't." Santana says, "I could have told you I just…" She glances over at Brittany, who is fooling with her napkin.

"You weren't ready." Kurt sighs, "Santana, you're my best friend. I had you when I had nobody and I feel like shit for even suggesting what I did. I thought you weren't even going to show up today and the thought killed me. Remember when I had my first fight with Blaine? And we got drunk and watched lifetime movies? Then you told me to stop being stupid and here I am." Kurt looks around, "I had to say this to you. I know the setting isn't the best for a heart to heart. But I love you, whoever you are, and I want you to know I'm sorry."

Santana bites her lip, extending her arms and letting Kurt fill them, "It's okay. I love you, too." Santana realizes how little she uses that phrase, only saying it on the phone to her mother, or in her head. Kurt lets go of her and kisses her cheek, giving her a long look in the eyes.

"Don't let go of her, Santana." He says before he walks away, grabbing a champagne glass and making a toast that she doesn't pay attention to. She's too busy hanging onto his words and glancing at Brittany.

Santana hasn't taken the time to appreciate the way Brittany looks in her pale pink dress, the way it compliments every little thing about her. She thinks of earlier when they were getting ready, with Brittany hovering over her as she sat, curling strands of her hair she couldn't reach. She thinks of the ring she splurged on that she keeps carrying with her but is afraid to give her, but most of all she thinks of the moment they both stood in front of the bathroom mirror and Brittany whispered into her ear as she let her finger tip brush over the line of butterflies on her chest: "You're beautiful."

It was like the butterflies came alive and flew down her throat, finding comfort in her stomach - twirling and twirling until the fall as Brittany walks away.

When the toasts have been given, dinner has been eaten, and the chatter is becoming louder than the music: Santana asks Brittany to talk. They walk away from the crowd, despite questioning looks from Kurt and Blaine; who are wrapped up talking to Finn's ex, Rachel. They find a spot on the beach that isn't too far away, the sun is setting and it feels like a movie. Santana reaches into her clutch and holds the ring in her hand, nudging Brittany lightly with her arm.

"I bought you something. Don't freak out, I'm not asking for any commitment…it's more of a 'thanks for being my friend' kind of gift." She shows her the ring in the palm of her hand.

"A butterfly." Brittany whispers, picking it up and looking at it. The ring is gold and mainly features the butterfly, a small diamond in the place where the head would be. "Wow."

"I thought if you wore it, you could look at it and think of me." She blushes and she can feel how obvious it is, "It reminded me of you."

Brittany slides it on her finger with ease, smiling down at it, "Thank you, so much." She hugs Santana tightly, letting her go and looking at her for a moment. "Can I…Can I kiss you?" Santana's mouth goes dry as she tries to nod in response, her heart racing and her palms sweating. Brittany leans her head down; capturing Santana's lips in a gentle way that makes Santana's knees feel wobbly. Brittany keeps disconnecting and reconnecting briefly, smiling only in a way that only the corners of her mouth raise. Santana swears she hears somebody cheering. Eventually the kiss ends, Santana takes Brittany's hand and they go back to the party. People are watching them now, especially Rachel and whoever the blonde is she's with. Blaine smirks at her from where he is seated at the piano, playing a song that sounds familiar but she can't pinpoint it. Brittany is humming along, her foot tapping.

"Before you met me, I was a wreck but things were kind of heavy, you brought me to life…" Brittany's voice rings clear though soft; she smiles as she sings along with Blaine, who is now singing into the microphone perched next to the piano.  
>Santana wraps her arms around Brittany from the back as they watch him; she whispers the final lyrics into Brittany's ear: "This is real, so take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever look back."<p>

Brittany shivers, leaning back and pressing a kiss to Santana's cheek. "Let's go home."

They say their goodbyes, complete with Kurt squealing over the two of them and Blaine trying to calm him down, they pass Finn who looks drunk and lost and Rachel who is crying into a handkerchief. It's the typical end of a wedding reception, except instead of Santana being one of those two people; she's linking pinkies with Brittany as they head to the car.

Santana drives with the windows down, the car smells like sea salt and perfume. Brittany rests her head on the open window, sleeping soundly as the radio plays. The news comes on and Santana slips back into reality. A place where people die, they go to jail, kids go missing. She used to ignore these things, but now they keep her grounded – they remind her. It's hard to accept that there is a world out there, beyond the sea and Brittany and comfortable days, there's a world: a world that doesn't always approve or disapprove of _people like her_. Tonight, before she goes to bed, she clutches a rosary her mother gave her and she prays. She prays that someday, she won't have to feel the line of separation from her reality and the world. She prays that it can blend, like a child creating a landscape painting in art class, the line will fade. But, most of all, she prays that Brittany will be happy. Because, if she can be happy, so can Santana.  
>It almost feels as if Brittany's smile has a direct line to Santana's heart.<br>She doesn't doubt it.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Someone asked how long Brittany has been there for: in the last chapter, it was exactly one month. This chapter takes place two weeks later. They are a bit scattered, mostly only a few days or weeks in between a few of the chapters. There's a two song soundtrack for this chapter! Check it out and enjoy!  
><strong>Bloom – The Paper Kites<strong> (The song they dance to)  
><strong>Love Don't Leave – Avalanche City<strong> (Playing the background after they dance)

"Mom?" Santana whispers in to the phone, "It's me."

There are memories on her mind. Her head fills heavy from the things she doesn't say out loud. She misses her mother, mostly. She misses the way her mom always knew what to say or do. Santana wonders if she'll be a lot like her one day, as people say, you grow in to being like your parents. Sometimes when she looks at her reflection, the mirror foggy with steam from the shower, she swears she sees her mother. She blinks and she misses her.  
>"How are you?" Her mother finally asks, "It's been awhile."<p>

"I'm sorry." She realizes there is an unanswered question, "I'm good, really good."

It's as if she can feel her mother smiling, "You've met someone." When she says someone, Santana wonder if her mother knows. Though now most of her has stepped out into the light, shimmering with new found self discovery, there's a sliver of her left in the darkness that is cast by the shame of who she really is. Santana wants it to disappear.

She'll try to erase it with words, "I've been thinking of coming up there. I'll bring my friend too."

"I'd really like that." Her mother seems to take in a deep breath, "How about on Monday? I'll cook dinner."

"That'll be perfect." It's Friday morning, Brittany is sitting on the couch with Maggie watching movies as the fog turns to mist above the water. She whispers about something to do with the mail. The TV is a little too loud and it's hard to hear Brittany's morning murmur.

"George has been asking about you."

At a young age, Santana would use her hair to cover her face, letting it falling on her dinner plate. It was her shield from the replacements. Men would sit in her father's seat at the dining room table, the only piece of furniture they kept when they moved. They would talk to her in voices that reminded her of her father, causing her to look up and wonder if it were him. It never seemed fair for him to leave on his own schedule; she told her mother she would wait for him to come back, because she thought he would. Every new face as the months went along built up her disappointment. They were never him, and they never were going to be.  
>George, however, was different. He stepped in the picture at an older age. Santana was around sixteen; she was starting to be more social at school and had a few friends. George was her friend's father. He was a sweet man, very wrapped up in romance and wooing Santana's mother. He slipped into their family in a way that didn't feel like he was intruding, it felt right. The part of her that was still waiting for her father, felt at ease when he entered their life.<br>She knew he couldn't be perfect.  
>George held strong opinions on the world and Santana's personal life. His daughter, only two years older than her, was already engaged and moving in the direction to becoming a doctor. He felt that Santana should be doing something similar. He'd ask a lot of questions. Especially when she moved, they'd made sure to move in the same state. In the beginning, they'd visit her often. He'd survey the area and ask her about boys and jobs. It became a routine with them, him always asking if she had someone. It got tiring. She would lie at times, telling him all about different boys she had been dating. Those led to nights of her feeling even less like herself, lying in bed with that empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. Santana knew this visit couldn't include his judgments. It wasn't fair to Brittany. It wasn't fair to her, either.<p>

"Mom…what if it was just us? I don't want him to get upset at it just-"

"Santana...he lives here."

"I just need to talk to you alone, Mom." She fights back the tears building in her eyes, "Please."

Her mother sighs in discontent, "Okay."

"I love you." Santana whispers and somehow over the TV Brittany hears her, turning around and smiling a little. "See you Monday." They hang up and instantly the television is turned off, all focus on Santana.

"How'd it go?" Brittany questions as she pats the spot on the couch beside her. As if on cue, Maggie jumps off her lap and wanders away, giving them privacy.

"Alright, I guess. I wanted to tell her everything. It was hard not to."

"I think it's better to wait, tell her in person…it's a big thing to share." Brittany clearly is nervous, though Santana had offered for her to stay at home when she went, she declined. It's obvious the feelings of when she came out are under her words.

"Brittany." Santana reaches for her to fall into her arms, "If it's going to remind you of when you did this…I'd rather you stay here."

Brittany laughs gently, cuddling into Santana's chest, "No. I want to be there. I think it'll help her see that it's real, you know, because you really have me and..." She stops, confused, "Am I your girlfriend? Are _you _my girlfriend?"

Santana smiles, "I never really felt the need to call you anything. You're Brittany, I'm Santana. I like you a lot, I think you like me." Pausing to take in Brittany's expression, she continues, "But, if you want to call me anything, I'd like if you called me your girlfriend."

"Then you can call me that, too." Brittany smiles, tilting her head up to look for the closest spot available then settling on leaving a soft kiss on Santana's jaw. Instant blush creeps over Santana's skin, something Brittany doesn't seem to notice.

"How long has it been?" Santana questions, Brittany scrunches her face, "…since you've had a girlfriend."

"Oh..." Brittany sits up, counting on her fingers and laughing, "Well, she dumped me about three weeks before I got here."

"Did you love her?"

"I guess."

Santana tilts her head, "How do you guess that kind of thing?"

Brittany sighs, "It was somewhat like…I loved her during our time together. Then I discovered more about her and I didn't really know her. You can't love a stranger."

Santana thinks back to the beach, how it all started, it's enough to protest Brittany's thought. But she doesn't. "What really happened? You don't have to answer, I just wondered-"

"No, its fine." Brittany gives her a reassuring smile, "I met her at school, we were both at Juilliard."

"You went to Juilliard?" Santana tries not to sound overly shocked but it comes across that way. Brittany laughs.

"Yeah, when I auditioned I told them I didn't have the money for it, but they offered to pay for it. The main thing I had to learn was ballet. One of the girls who had been there a few years, Allie, helped me a lot and we discovered we had a friend in common - Mike. When he found out we knew each other, He started dragging us out together and I ended up liking her. We got together slowly, she heard that I got evicted from my apartment at one point and let me move in with her." She bites her lip, "Our relationship was really great at first. Then I caught her with one of Mike's friends one night and… I tried to let it go, she was drunk and we weren't official yet. But after awhile it seemed like it was always happening. Like she was so full of mistakes."

"Why didn't you break up with her?"

"She always apologized. She would make it up to me." Brittany looks down, "One day she told me upfront she wasn't interested anymore. She told me I was _fun_, but I wasn't her type." Santana watches as Brittany gulps, her throat moving as she pauses to look for words that won't sting. "I stayed in New York for awhile, trying to throw myself into dance more…but I had to get away. Everywhere I went I would see things that were related to her, people would talk about how she left me for a guy... I got in the car and I drove. I drove to forget, really. And now here I am."

"Are you glad you left? Don't you miss Julliard?" There are some many questions in her head, rolling off the end of her tongue so quick she can't catch them.

"Yeah, I miss it. But I'm glad I met you, you know that."

Santana smiles, "I don't know what I'd be doing if I didn't have you."

Brittany brushes a finger tip along Santana's cheek, "Living, of course."

Brittany steps away to go get a drink from the kitchen and Santana finally responds: "I don't think I would be."

It's night time when Santana is called downstairs. She figures that Brittany can't find something in the cupboards or the microwave stopped working again. But instead, she finds herself with her jaw agape at the top of the stairs. The blonde is wearing a red dress, her hair pinned with curls falling on her shoulders. Everything reminds her of an old film, all the way down to the candles places around the room.

"Brittany…" Santana looks down at her pajamas, "What-"

"Remember when I was going to make you dinner and have this great date but you came home all sad?" Brittany gestures to the table, "Let's try again."

"You don't have to do all this."

"Yeah, I do." Brittany extends her hand for Santana to come down the stairs, "Monday is going to be hard and I want you to have something fun before. So when you're there and you get sad or angry or whatever you may feel, you have this to remember." They share a moment after Brittany's words, looking at each other in a way that most people would overlook or find simple, but there are feelings under looks – feelings that bring memories with them and make your heart jump with a flutter of an eyelash. It is looks that say more than words.

Santana opens her mouth, lips parted before she speaks, eyes locked with Brittany's. "I should change."

Brittany shakes her head, "No. I like you that way. You look so beautiful."

Santana laughs, ignoring the burning sensation in her cheeks, "I'm in my pajamas, Brittany."

"So?" Brittany smiles, "Come here. The food will get cold."

Santana goes down the stairs quickly, watching as Brittany moves towards the dining room with a slight swing in her hips. Brittany pulls out a chair for Santana and goes to sit in her spot, gracefully landing in the seat and smiling subtly.

"I made chicken alfredo, I hope you like it." Brittany shrugs, "I hope this isn't too much."

Santana looks around and takes everything in once more, the candles and the music that she barely could hear before – gentle, soft. She looks at Brittany again, the candle light dancing on her face. She stunning. For a second, Santana forgets that this is even real.

"It's not. It's perfect." Santana plays with her food a bit, not able to concentrate on eating.

"I love this song." Brittany says quietly, twirling her pasta on her fork before indulging.

"Dance with me?" Santana reaches out a hand to touch Brittany's, thumb rolling over the raised vein on the back of her hand. They both get up, the music leading them to each other, Brittany already swaying on her own. Their foreheads touch, taking in each other's breath, as they hold each other's sides.

"The food-" Brittany starts to say, when Santana shushes her.

"I'm not hungry."

Brittany laughs, low in her throat, as Santana sighs. They move together in a strange way around the kitchen to the music, humming along to the beat.

_"Can I be close to you?"_ Santana sings the final line as their movement stops.

"Santana-" Brittany has a look on her face Santana has never seen and soon, so soon, she begins to move towards her. Their lips crash together with an odd amount of force. Brittany's nails run up her spine and her other hand grips the back of Santana's head.

Santana can't breathe. "Shit." She whispers across Brittany's lingering lips, somehow they keep meshing together, the curves of their bodies fitting like puzzle pieces.

"Let me, let me –" Brittany's lips trail Santana's neck, causing her to shake.

"Hey." Santana says, her hand pressed to Brittany's chest, "Can you slow down?"

Brittany's mouth closes firmly as her eyes change, she seem to realize what she just did. "Wow. I…I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I promise."

"I'm your...I'd be your first, wouldn't I?"

Santana lets out a shaky breath, "Yeah."

"Do you want me to be that?" Brittany's eyes make her seem very young for some reason, full of hopefulness and a slight amount of innocence that is beautiful in this way that makes Santana want to tell her to just go for it, let it happen now, but she doesn't.

"I do. I do really like you, Brittany. I'm just…I'm so inexperienced." She laughs, "I have no idea what I'm doing, no idea what you like or how to touch you."

"So learn." Brittany says, "We can take it slow, just learn each other for awhile."

Santana looks away, a smile on her face that isn't meant to be there, "I'm just a little lost."

Brittany picks up Santana's limp arms, guiding her hands onto her hips, "Let me help you find your way." She whispers, her lips pressing to Santana's as she says it.

A candle goes out, somewhere, and the music dies down. All there is left is them and for some reason; it's more beautiful than anything else could be.


	9. Chapter 9

There is a moment, where Santana stands in front of her mother's kitchen, in which all the air leaves her lungs. Her mother is shaking her head, tears rolling down her cheeks saying "I knew it, I knew it." Her hands up and flying in Brittany's direction. Everything is fast, contact is brief, but Santana grabs her mother. She whispers to her and something settles.

An hour ago, Brittany was sitting in the passenger seat of Santana's car, legs pulled up to her chest as she listened to the radio. The windows were all down and the wind was making Brittany's hair look like part of the hay filled fields they passed. Santana had thought she was looking over at her too often but the roads were nearly empty, so it didn't seem to make much of a difference. At least, if she crashed and died, she'd already be looking in to the light. Brittany was _made _of sunshine.

There is no sun now, only rain, in forms that drip down from eyes instead of clouds. Santana's mother is pushing her away, but Santana is pulling her towards her. Brittany has a hand on Santana's back, her finger tips making small circles.  
>"Mommy." She can't help but let the name slip, it feels so comfortable on her tongue, "I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you."<p>

"You know…" Her mother separates from Santana's hold, "I told you I will always love you and I meant it when I said it." She walks around the living room, stopping in front of a wall full of photos; Santana is in all of them. Her ages vary, her expressions ever-changing, but it's obvious to her mother that a light that is now in Santana's eyes, was never there before. Maybe that's what hurts the most. "I knew." She whispers, fingertips grazing along a photograph, "A mother always knows. Just sometimes it's hard to admit to yourself that your child is different."

Brittany looks at Santana, their eyes meeting before she speaks, "Mrs. Lopez-"

"Nina, please. Call me Nina." She is still entranced by a photograph of Santana that must be from first grade, she's missing her two front teeth, and she's smiling with her nose all scrunched up. She looks happier than any of the other photos on the wall. Santana can't even remember that day.

"I just wanted to say, being different – being gay – it isn't an end all to everything. I know you're looking at Santana and you're seeing that little girl in the pictures and you're worrying that maybe you did something wrong. But, you didn't. You're daughter is amazing, Nina. She's smart, funny, and caring. Just because she is gay it doesn't change who she is deep inside, she'll always be that little girl in the pictures." Brittany steps back after she speaks, hand covering her mouth as she realizes how much she's spoken, and suddenly she's afraid that she's overstepped her boundaries. But then there is Santana nudging her arm, giving her a small, sad smile.

Nina watches them, wiping under her eyes as she walks towards them. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to hide this from me." She says to Santana, then turns to Brittany, "Thank you, for caring so much about my daughter. "

"Were you cooking before we got here?" Santana tries to change the subject, "The house smells great."

Nina smiles, nodding, "I better get back to that." She looks at the two of them carefully, "I'm sure you both know it will take me awhile to warm up to this, but I don't want you to be afraid to be yourselves around me. Ok?"

The two of them nod as they watch her go in to the kitchen, Brittany finds herself looking around the room and taking it in for the first time. It's a simple house from the outside, but the inside is very complex and different. The living room is close to the kitchen and spiral staircase, which just seems to curve and go _up, up, up_until it ends close to the sky. Brittany swears she even sees bits of blue at the very top.

"What's up there?" Brittany points up the stairs and looks at Santana, her eyes twinkling.

"My mom's art studio and the bedrooms." Santana adds, "Remember the mirror in my room? She makes a lot of stuff like that and she paints."

"Oh." Brittany wanders near the bottom step, glancing back before heading up. Santana tells her mother where they are going and she follows. They turn along with the staircase, Brittany glancing back here and there to check if Santana is still behind here. It doesn't take long for them to get to the top, where Brittany discovers that the ceiling is painted sky blue. She laughs to herself and looks at the many doors in the hallway. Each one has a different color doorknob, carved by Nina herself; everyone has a different feel to it. "You could find a room with your eyes closed." Brittany whispers, Santana pulling her arm towards the art studio at the end of the hall. The flooring is different than the rest of the house, and at first that's all Brittany sees. Then she looks up. "Wow." The room is paint splattered, the white walls covered in rainbow specs. Paintings are hanging on the walls, different but so similar, and Brittany just can't pin point what it is that makes them that way. There's a large window on the farthest wall, looking out at all the houses and trees. Looking out the window, she feels content. There's normality to what she sees, the same brown colored rooftop on multicolored houses, the big blue sky, and leaves blowing in the wind. Green earth and the way people live. It's so different from their house beside the sea. They're so away from everything, everyone, she forgets that there are other people out there. Other people who are living, breathing, loving, _dancing. _She thinks of the letter. How it sits on her desk and she so badly wants to read it again now, because it's a chance, it's a choice. Her head turns, Santana is leaning against the wall watching her, the silence is now so noticeable that they both open their mouths to speak. Brittany's about to tell her everything that's on her mind, but she wants to her Santana's voice more than that.

"It's nice up here." Santana says, "Sometimes I wish I had a camera to capture moments like this."

"Yeah." Brittany says, "Santana-"

"You just look really beautiful when the sun hits your face like that." Santana reaches up and grabs a sketchbook off one of the shelves in the room, it's empty. She searches for a pencil. "May I?" Santana makes a gesture to show that she wants to draw Brittany, which only gets a smile from the other girl; it's the way she likes to say yes. Santana sits on the floor, sketching quickly at first, her hand eventually starting to relax in to it. She looks up at Brittany sometimes but the memory is what is really guiding her. They hear the door creak open while she's in the middle of sketching Brittany's nose. The sound startles her in to drawing a line across Brittany's already drawn cheek. Nina stands there, silently apologizing with her eyes.

"I didn't know you started drawing." She says, waiting for some kind of sign that she is welcome in the room. Santana erases the line and smiles at her mother, extending her hand with the sketchbook for her to look at it. Nina walks in to the room, taking the sketchbook in to her wrinkled hands. She smiles so warmly that the sun must have dropped from the sky and slipped behind her teeth. Brittany gets odd little goose bumps from watching. "This is very beautiful so far." She finally says, handing back the sketchbook and nodding for her to keep working. "Lunch is ready, if you're hungry now. I won't object if you want to keep working." She heads out the door, a twinkle still in her eye and a spring now in her step. When she reaches the doorway, she pauses, turning back. "George is going to be home soon, Santana." Nina gulps a bit, her face losing its expression. Santana lowers her eyes and starts to draw again. Nina reaches to turn on the radio for them before she exits. The music is very soft and for some reason it helps Santana get a grip on this and not _that._But pieces of her are off somewhere worrying about George. She doesn't know why it matters so much what one person thinks of her. It shouldn't. She presses her pencil down harder as she finishes the sketch. Eventually, she lets her legs that were pulled to her chest, fall straight down. Her head pressed against the wall with eyes closed.

"Santana?" Brittany moves from where she has been standing for so long, crouching down to cup Santana's cheek. "You okay?"

"Yes and no." Santana mumbles and lifts her chin so their faces are close. "I'm scared." Brittany doesn't ask what she is scared of because she can feel it, whatever it is, radiating off of Santana and surging under her own skin. She thinks, maybe if they kiss, she can take away the fear and bury it somewhere inside of herself. Their lips touch with an electric buzz behind it and suddenly there is nothing else in the room. It's melting away, it's just Santana, it's just Brittany. They are everywhere, their movements like rain and fire twisting – combining – and sizzling out at the end.  
>There is a cough.<br>_Ahem._  
>And they separate, shaking, the aftershock not having any time to affect them. There he is. Standing at the door, glasses on the brim of his nose, lips parted.<p>

"Hi." Brittany mumbles, unsure why she says it, she backs away from Santana.

"Go downstairs. Right now." George says through his teeth, his chest pumped up full of air. He exhales harshly and moves away from the door, watching the two girls get up and exit with their shoulders slumped. They walk downstairs carefully – so, so carefully. Brittany nearly tip toes. She's shaking, thinking of her father, and it's as if the rain is making her clothes stick to her all over again. Except, it's not raining, she's inside. But she feels it. She definitely feels it all over again.

Santana is in shock. There are no words for her to say because there are no words in her head. When they get back in to the living room, Nina is expecting them in the kitchen, all smiles until she sees them. She stops, confusion all over her face, "Girls, what-" Her eyes find George's and she scans his face for the story.  
>"Did you hurt my daughter?" Nina half whispers, walking towards George with confidence running through her, she looks up at him with harsh eyes. Her fists are at her sides, knuckles white. "What did you do?" She says, looking at Santana and catching Brittany instead. Brittany who is shaking so much now she can't hide it, little tears are on her face and she tries to wipe them away but can't, she sits on the couch and wants to disappear.<p>

"Your daughter was _sucking face_ with that girl." George's teeth are still clenched together. "I don't know who she thinks she is to bring all of this in my house. You know what I believe, she knows it too. I don't care who or what she is fucking, but in _my _house there is none of that." He keeps gesturing at Brittany, nearly spitting his words out at her.

"Don't look at her." Santana finally speaks up.

"Excuse me?" George turns to her, his hand gripping her chin and pointing it up at him, "What did you say?"

"I said, don't you _dare _look at her." Santana spits, it hitting his glasses, making him drop his hold on her chin.

"Oh, isn't this just priceless. Look at you trying to be hero. Let me tell you something, Santana. All you will ever be is a-"

"STOP!" Nina yells, her hands hitting George's chest, "Stop talking to my daughter like that right now."

George snorts, "And what are you going to do about it?"

"Are you kidding me?" Nina is shaking her head, pounding her fists on his chest, "Where is the guy I fell in love with? Huh? When you tell someone you will love them no matter what. It really means no matter what happens. Did you know that?" He doesn't answer her, "My daughter is a lesbian. I have always _known that_. But I love her; I love her _so_ much that I don't care. I am proud of her for not hiding anymore. " Nina glances at Santana, smiling at her as much as she can. It's still silent. "I know you're conservative, but I thought – _thought_– you would deal with it in an adult manner. If you loved me enough…you would do that." She's breathing crazy and the tears have appeared again, rolling down her cheeks. "I want you to leave tonight." She finishes and steps away from him, leaving George dumbfounded.

"Nina, baby, please." George is now so quiet, whispering and trying to be closer to her, his hand reaching to wipe at the tears.

"You heard her." Santana says. "Leave her alone. You've done enough." George's body falls with his defeat, he heads to the stairs to go get his things.

"Wait. One more thing." Nina says, turning to face him, "This will never be _your house_. Don't ever call it that again."  
>George looks as if he is going to retort, say something he finds to be witty, but he doesn't.<p>

Santana waits for him to be upstairs to engulf her mother in a hug, rocking her back and forth in her arms. "Thank you." She says, squeezing her mother tightly. "Thank you so much."

"It's no problem but…" Nina is looking at Brittany, who is holding herself on the end of the couch. She doesn't even seem like she knows what's happening.

"Oh, _B_." Santana is quickly at her side, "Brit?" She raises her head and sighs, eyes puffy and red.

"Sorry he just…reminded me of my dad." She practically whimpers her words, "It felt like rain, Santana."

Santana exchanges looks with her mother, who is obviously confused, "It'll be ok. My mom kicked him out."

"She did?" Brittany is surprised and that worries Santana. _Where did she go when they were talking? What world did she slip in to?  
><em>  
>"Yeah, she did." Santana gives her a smile to hold on to.<p>

"Wow. That's great." Brittany looks at Nina, "It is." George comes down the stairs now, his bags in tow, he hardly glances at anyone. Nina cringes and slips in to the kitchen. The front door closes with a simple 'click'.  
>"Lunch?" Nina half yells from the kitchen, the two of them replying by entering the room with her. They sit at the dining table, not talking much, but it feels like family. Families fight, they hate, the hide, and they say things to each other they might regret. But families also have a connection that is more important than all of that petty bullshit. So they love, they except, they learn from, and they move on. Brittany looks at Santana, mouthing that word:<em> 'Family'<em>. Because it's hers, because she has no one else, and right there in that second that's what she _has_. Santana looks back and mouths another word to her: _'Love'_. Because that's what she feels and that's what she wants to feel. Her mother, she laughs, watching them interact. She speaks up.

"Happy." She says, "I feel happy."

"Me, too." Brittany smiles, "Sometimes it takes a lot to get there but right now, I'm happy."

Santana watches the two of them, sitting back in her chair, letting her fork dangle from her finger's grip. The sketch book sits on the table by the empty chair, open with the pages fluttering from the air coming in from the window. Casually, Brittany takes a peek at the drawing, lips parting as she does. "Thank you." She breathes and the words swirl around in Santana's head. The picture later goes up on the wall beside one of Santana's elementary school photos. Her mother said that the wall looked so empty there and Brittany's portrait made the room look whole – complete – she adds after she thinks about it more. Santana can't help but agree. "I looked like that wall before I met her." She says it with the strangest tone, very light, very gentle. "Then she came in to my life and now…"

"It's your eyes." Nina says, "There is a light behind them."

They just nod, Brittany appears from where she was wandering and they say goodbye. It's very somber, the way her mother kisses her cheek. Then he hugs Brittany, holds her close and whispers a secret in her ear. The two of them are much more similar than Santana ever would have thought. It's comforting. Hell, it's _beautiful_. They leave and they get in the car. Brittany falls asleep while they drive back home, Santana just sings softly to the radio, thinking over the events from the past couple of hours. She isn't sure if there is anything to cry about, anything bad that happened at all, because at the end they were all together. They were all happy. And somewhere inside her that counts for something and it means everything. Right now, as they pull up to the house, and the few street lights form patterns along Brittany's face. She has a realization.  
>She doesn't want anything else, ever.<p>

An:/ I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I would love to know what you think of the story's progression so far, review? Only 7 chapters left!


	10. Chapter 10

AN:/ I am so sorry this has taken as long as it has! I started school and I have just been extremely busy with everything. I really hope that this chapter was worth the wait. There is a **slight sexual situation**in this chapter, this is your one and only warning! The little thing at the end is something I came up with myself. The next chapter will not take as long as this one, I promise! Sorry for any mistakes, I really wanted to get this chapter out. I will go back and correct anything if you spot it. Enjoy and thank you for reading :) xox

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><p><em>I could hold you in my arms forever<em>_  
><em>_When you kissed my lips with my mouth so full of questions__  
><em>_It's my worried mind that you quiet_  
>-Ray LaMontagne "Hold you in My Arms" <p>

* * *

><p>Santana teaches Brittany how to read, slowly but surely, in the corners of the dusty book store. Brittany teaches Santana things on her box spring mattress, listening to it creak along with Santana's heavy sighs when Brittany pulls away: "Soon, soon. " She murmurs, always, and though Santana wants so much then and there, she is thankful for it later. She is waiting for the moment where it clicks and suddenly it's time. Brittany seals each lesson with a kiss. Together, they learn.<p>

"Do you remember how I went to the post office the other day?" Brittany says as they sit on the porch, Santana sketching something she's been working on.

"Brittany, you go to the post office all the time." She says this as nicely as she can, shaking her head.

"But I never get anything." Brittany half whispers, "That day I came back with a letter." Santana thinks about it. She had watched Brittany slip through the screen door staring at the paper in her hands, eyebrows scrunched together as she ran up the stairs. Santana didn't think much of it then.

"What was it?"

Brittany shrugs, "Well, It was hard to read." She reaches in to the pocket of her jeans and pulls out the crumpled letter. There are words circled here and there in red ink, "Those are the only parts I understood."

Santana holds the letter, eyes jumping along the words, and her heart falls and crashes deep in to the pit of her stomach. "_Oh."  
><em>  
>"So it's true?" She gulps, "I read that right? They want me to-"<p>

"Move back to New York." Santana tries to calm herself down, rereading the letter over and over. "The New York Dance Company saw a video of one of your performances. They want you." Her voice becomes monotone as she tells Brittany everything that it says. She reads the letter twice out loud and they look at each other in silence.

"I'm not going." Brittany says before taking the letter from Santana's shaking hands. "I'll be upstairs." Santana watches her run up the stairs through the window and then she rises and walks inside, pausing in the door frame. She pretends not to hear the scream muffled by a pillow seconds later. There is little air in her lungs, her heart is racing, and everything seems as if it's spinning.

"Brittany!" She yells, running up the stairs, "Brittany!"

"What?" Brittany has a face covered in tears, her hands trying to hide it. Santana pushes them out of the way. She runs a finger over the tear drops, wiping them away, never wanting to see them again. She kisses Brittany, lightly at first, yet somehow it deepens and there's this instant yearning in her stomach. They tumble back on to the bed, Santana hovering over Brittany's shaking figure. They kiss each other over and over, every break leading to another kiss, as Santana runs her fingertips under the hem of Brittany's shirt. "Do you maybe want to…?" Brittany is breathing heavily, cheeks still tear stained. Somehow, she's smiling through it, a rainbow in a rainstorm.

"Yes." Santana says and she means it. She means it because this may be the first and the last time. She may not get to keep this girl trembling beneath her; she might lose her to the New York City lights. This could be goodbye. Brittany slips her hands under Santana's shirt and begins to pull it off, it falls on to the bed beside them. Goosebumps cover Santana's newly exposed skin and she shivers closer to Brittany. Their lips melt together softly, not even pressing, just hovering on each other's as their breath passes in between them. They are so _close, _that there is no end to their bodies, and everything is just going and going. Curves and lines that never stop, that never cross, but mend themselves together. Brittany strips off her own shirt, wide eyed and wonderstruck, kissing Santana with passion running through her entire body.

"I'm in _love_ with _you_." She whispers in to Santana's ear as a secret, as words that have never left her lips before now. There is this long pause in the moments. Instead it's all eyes, watching each other in the almost silence, the sound of the waves crashing along the shore faintly audible through the open window.  
>"I love you." Santana says, kissing Brittany's forehead, "I love you<em> so<em> much." She wants to yell at herself for this. But there isn't time. It's time for kissing, making love, and saying goodbye. Shit. Goodbye. What does that even mean? A shove out the door? A long, lingering kiss in the moonlight? Packing suitcases and running off in to a faded sunset? How do you say goodbye when you love someone?  
>You don't.<br>And when it clicks in her head for the first time, it _really_ clicks.  
>They keep going. The rest of their clothes finding their way to the floor as they roll around in the sweat coated bed sheets, as kisses are planted along skin paths. Invisible hand prints are left on their bodies, as Santana finds herself underneath the weight of Brittany. Her blonde hair brushes against Santana's face, reminding her of the first thing she ever noticed about the girl, she gulps. Brittany's hands are somehow everywhere. On her thighs, on her hips, on her stomach, on her chest…Every movement is gentle and slow. It's beautiful, but her body is writhing, wanting so much more than what she is getting.<p>

"Ready?" Brittany smiles in a way that she is nearly shining in the most gorgeous way. Sunlight hitting her just right, beads of sweat running down her back. The world feels empty, with only them in the middle of it, and no one else will ever interfere.

"I'm ready." Santana finally answers her. Then it happens. Brittany's fingers touch her carefully; her mouth parted in concentration, a little gasp escapes her. Brittany presses her forehead on to Santana's stomach, coating it with the sweat that has gathered; as she watches the way her fingers look as they touch the girl beneath her. Santana finds herself grabbing at the sheets when Brittany enters her, a moan rising from her throat. There is nothing like this feeling. There is no bitter taste of lust, but the sweet feeling of love. Love in the way that Brittany smiles as she kisses Santana's stomach. Love in the ways that Brittany lays her head on Santana's shoulder as she moves her fingers inside of her. Love in the ways that they kiss each other senseless, becoming blind to everything but the feelings behind each kiss. Santana feels her hips push up against Brittany's as everything seems to speed up, she becomes aware of the sounds she has been making, harsh in the back of her throat. She comes. Her eyes closed, teeth biting at her lip, as she mumbles through her clenched teeth: _"Brittany."  
><em>  
>Then it's over. Brittany falls next to her hitting the bed with a thump. They both sigh in content.<p>

"Hey." Brittany says, turning on her side to look at Santana.

"Hi." Santana laughs, turning to look at Brittany, extending a hand to touch her face. "I'm going to miss you."

Brittany shakes her head, "I'm staying here. I can't leave you."

"You didn't let me finish, silly." Santana smiles, "I'm going to miss you on those long days when you work and I sit in our apartment all day."

"Wait." Brittany sits up in shock. "You want to go with me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Santana pulls her arm so they're looking at each other again, "Because when you love someone, you don't say goodbye to them."

"We could just stay here." Brittany responds, tears forming in her eyes. "Stay here and grow old."

"No. This opportunity… it's huge. You deserve to be a star, Britt." Santana pulls her in even more, holding her body in her arms.

"I want to go." Brittany finally says. "I'm scared though. What if I'm not good enough?"

"I doubt that." Santana smiles again, "But if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. We will figure it out." Brittany wiggles in Santana's arms, smiling at every word she says.

"I can't believe this." Brittany says, "You're perfect." She squeezes Santana closer, breathing in deeply. "I love you, Santana." She gets up excitedly, grabbing her clothes off the floor.

"I love you too!" Santana calls after her, lying alone in the bed. The ceiling becomes suddenly interesting; she stares up at it, thinking. New York. She remembers being a child living in the crazy city, a teenager riding alone on the subway, so dazed and confused. She never hated the city. As much as Santana wanted to hate it, she loved New York. She loved the art and the music, the culture, the way it had so much going on but somehow you could find quiet in the serenity of a library. She would do just that, huddling up with a book in her own corner of the world. Santana turns Brittany's words over in her head. She thinks of her face and everything she has ever done for her. She thinks of a few months ago when she would sit alone in her beautiful home and cry because she didn't know what was wrong. Everything before Brittany felt wrong. She only ever had flashes of happiness, little tastes of it here and there, but now it was just there. It was hovering over her always, ready to be an option. That is why she is doing this. Because if Brittany were to stay, they would always question 'what if' and if Brittany were to leave, Santana would go back to where she once was.

Santana gets up and gets dressed; she stands in front of her mirror, not noticing Brittany standing in the doorway.

"You're beautiful." Brittany walks towards her, wrapping her arms around Santana's waist as she stands behind her. Santana runs a finger over Brittany's butterfly ring; they sway a little bit as they watch themselves in the mirror. Santana loves the way they look together. "I can't wait to be with you forever." Brittany murmurs this in a way that  
>Santana is unsure if she means it or wants it to be heard, but she can't help but answer back in her own quiet tone of voice: "Me, too."<p>

Soon they'll have to clean out all of the cabinets and pack tons of cardboard boxes, drive all the way to New York with Maggie mewing in the back seat, and start an entirely new part of their life.

But for now, they will enjoy their final days along the shore, basking in the sun and running in the waves.

_Location doesn't matter  
>you have maps along your heart,<br>with a 'you are here' sign placed right in the center,  
>that's where I live, that's my home<em>


End file.
